In an effort to avoid having their work artistically typecast, many musicians have chosen to incorporate a variety of styles into their own vernacular. Although this frequently results in fascinating results, there are several distinct challenges and problems with the eclectic approach.

The first is simply that of failing to convince, perhaps better stated as a lack of credibility, a sort of musical equivalent to "hey, look at me, I can do that too!" or worse "you want that? We can do that!" This is usually the consequence of failing to understand the style(s) being adopted.

The second is that of falling short of fully merging the styles, where the music is not so much integrated as it is bolted together. While there have been notable successes with this method (the resultant juxtapositional conflicts can be both intriguing and frightening), the general result is a clunky, stilted quality, with music that lunges and staggers, functional yet malformed (or as the high tech community might say "it"s kludgy"). This is usually the consequence of successfully understanding, yet failing to absorb the style(s) being adopted.

The third is that of the musical whole simply being equal to (or somewhat less than) the constitutional elements. Although the music may be convincing, and may be lithe and fluid in execution, the result is simply flat and formulaic. Elements are merely borrowed and subsequently proportioned in a variety of ways with predictable and disappointing results. This lack of synergy is usually the consequence of successfully understanding and successfully absorbing, yet failing to FEEL the style(s) being adopted.

But fear not, gentle reader, All About Jazz is not reporting the death of eclecticism. In fact, and at the risk of shameless self-promotion, one need look no further than the virtual pages of AAJ to find a multitude of musicians who take on and transcend the challenge of eclecticism. Perhaps it can be said that these musicians avoid being having their work categorized, labeled, or otherwise classified, by simply creating their own categories, labels, and classifications?

If so, then saxophonist/clarinetist/composer/improviser Chris Speed is surely one of these musicians. Although having come to prominence in 1995 as a member of Tim Berne"s bloodcount (appearing on the legendary and now semi-mythical trilogy of bloodcount cds released by JMT), Mr. Speed had previously achieved well-deserved respect in the band Human Feel (with Andrew D"Angelo " clarinet, Jim Black " drums, and Kurt Rosenwinkel " guitar) a precociously eclectic ensemble in their own right. Mr. Speed had also recorded with the large ensemble Orange Then Blue, contributing one of his own compositions as the opening track to WHILE YOU WERE OUT (1992, GM Recordings).

Since that time, Mr. Speed has appeared on nearly 40 other recordings (refer to "Chris Speed discography" below) including work with trumpeter Dave Douglas, bassists Mark Dresser and Michael Formanek, cellist Erik Friedlander, pianists Myra Melford and Satoko Fujii, and saxophonists Briggan Krauss and John Zorn.

While keeping up the daunting challenge of being a sideman in (and on) demand for the above named, since 1997 Mr. Speed has taken up the equally intimidating role of band leader with three ensembles: the quartet yeah, No (including Cuong Vu " trumpet, Skuli Sverrisson " bass, and the seemingly ubiquitous Jim Black " drums), the quartet Pachora (co-led with Messrs. Sverrisson and Black but with Brad Shepik " guitar and various stringed instruments in lieu of Messr. Vu), and the Chris Speed Trio (with Jamie Saft " keyboards and Ben Perowsky " drums).

But most significant about these ensembles, is that none of them sound alike. To be sure the musical contributions of each member allow each to be distinguished as an individuals, so that at a "component level" (to borrow another hi-tech term), the singular characteristics (if not idiosyncrasies and downright eccentricities) allow discrete identities to shine through. But at a "system level" (sorry, but yours truly is a hi-tech kind of guy) true differentiation of group to group is undeniable. The outcome is that Pachora is utterly unlike yeah, No and this despite a 75% overlap in personnel (nevertheless the presence of said personnel is unmistakable). Very tasty indeed and a clear testimony to the diverse talents and capabilities of the musicians involved.

But what of the Chris Speed Trio and their debut, the curiously titled IFFY (2000, Knitting Factory Works)?

Of IFFY, AAJ modern jazz editor Glenn Astarita writes: "Chris Speed adds new meaning to the phrase 'power organ trio' with his latest endeavor... Speed utilizes the laudable talents of keyboardist Jamie Saft who is rapidly evolving into a dynamo of lofty proportions and the equally adept, hard hitting drummer/bandleader Ben Perowsky, as the Trio pursues power-organ grooves with a modern-jazz slant" Chris Speed possesses a true renaissance spirit! Along with the band Pachora who meld "Balkan and North African motifs" with modern jazz ideologies, Iffy marks yet another new direction for this modern day stylist. Basically, Chris Speed is one of modern-jazz" great young explorers who along with a select few are reforming or modifying traditional concepts while pursuing novel philosophies in conjunction with often mind-bending technical acumen!"

All About Jazz: Your bio states that you were raised on classical music and began playing piano at age 5. Could you please tell All About Jazz about your earliest musical memories with regards to these?

Chris Speed: We had an ancient neglected upright that my mother and my sister played occasionally. I wanted to play it. I begged to take lessons from a musical family down the block. When we tuned it, we found a mouse nest in the strings (no mice though " I guess they tired of hearing "Love Story"). The piano was in the basement, the coldest and scariest place in the house. After playing late at night I would literally run up the stairs in case something (monster) would trap me between the piano room (safe haven) and the stairs (escape hatch).

Playing "The Entertainer" and the theme from SWAT for my first grade class was my big stage debut. Another early piece I learned was "Come Sail Away", which I can still play! Also I can still play "Open Arms" but I forget the bridge. Which is too bad, because now I know that's what all the girls really want to hear. At least, my girl.

Mainly, I studied the simple classical literature of Mozart, Bach, Mendelssohn, and Chopin. And I was involved with the Seattle Young Artist competitions, where I would get my ass kicked consistently by mostly Asian girls.

I liked sports. I wrestled and skied. Played soccer, baseball. Vandalized the neighborhood, and practiced music enough to sound good. Relatively.

I love jazz because, even after many years as a professional performer, teacher and author on the subject, this music still possesses the element of deep mystery and surprise. I recently heard somebody say that if you can explain something, you take the mystery out of it

I love jazz because, even after many years as a professional performer, teacher and author on the subject, this music still possesses the element of deep mystery and surprise. I recently heard somebody say that if you can explain something, you take the mystery out of it. Not in this case! It seems that with every explanation, new questions arise exponentially! It's like the universe is constantly inviting (challenging) you to grow musically.